Screaming Internally
by patternedcomicstars
Summary: Thor and Loki gain another sibling at a moderately young age. A forbidden romance blossoms as they mature. It doesn't count if she's adopted, right? Loki/OC
1. Prologue

**HAVE YOU SEEN THE DARK WORLD YET? GO DO IT. ERMERGERD. And just to clarify, Thor is like ten. Loki is like eight. **

The small child's cries echoed through the throne room, only to be silenced by the finger of the Queen.

"You musent do that, Frigga. She can chew on the teething rings." The King peered over his wife's strong shoulder, looking onto the alabaster-skinned infant. She had curly ginger hair, freckles coating her rosy cheeks even in her young age. "And let her get a splinter in her lip? Or her tongue? No, Odin. I am fine sacrificing my finger." Frigga smiled up to her husband, before turning her attention back to the bundle as she walked from the room - in the direction of a place most precious to her.

Odin sighed, his head tilting downward in a self-evaluating slouch. He reviewed his actions, now, and _then. _A small sigh broke his thought process.

"Boys."

The tall (for his age), thicker blonde boy seemed to have tripped from behind the nearest pillar. From the other side came his brother, a slim (and also tall for _his_ age), dark headed boy, in a rather graceful manner. "What_ is_ that thing?" Thor was the one to ask.

Chuckling, Odin went to his sons. "That _thing _is your new sister, Thor."

Both the pairs of the boy's eyes widened, looking at each other in wonder and slight confusion. "Where did she come from?" Loki.

"A far away land, one you will learn of when she is ready to." Odin absorbed how well his sons took this news, having a brand new sibling, after so many years of being just the two of them.

Loki merely shrugged, echoing the footsteps of his mother. "I want to go say hello."

"Brother, wait for me!" Thor laughed, brushing passed his father and bashed into Loki, who rolled his eyes before running after his oaf of a brother. Perhaps it was time to tell Loki of his true parentage? No. The boy could only handle so much.

Odin stared after them, a small smile spreading over his face. He and Frigga had always craved a daughter, to dote and love, to spoil and teach. Now they did, and they would love her forever.

* * *

They sat in the nursery, the room that hadn't been used in ages. The child was now silent, curled into the arms of the Queen. Frigga rocked her back and forth in her rocking chair she hadn't sat in so long - her boys were much too old for it. The pale little baby gripped and gnawed her bejeweled fingers, Frigga not paying any mind to what would happen to her jewelry. She did take it off, but only after considering her rings could cut the baby's mouth.

"Mother?" Thor's timid call came from the cracked door. "Come here, my darlings. See your sister."

Loki came in first, keeping his hands behind his back as he stood beside his mother. Thor was soon to approach, shyness taking him over for once.

"She is so tiny." Came Thor's only observation. Frigga's laugh was bell-like, holding the small child out a bit more so her brothers could see her. "That she is, my sweet."

They small child looked at the boys in a particular fashion, lulling her curlycue backwards. She gave a high-pitched laugh, kicking her small feet and holding her small arms out towards them. The brothers looked to one another, not entirely sure what to do.

"She want's your horse, Loki." Loki looked behind him, and there sat his beloved childhood toy. He hadn't thought of it in years. Selfishness shot through him for a few moments, a voice telling him to keep what was his.

He smiled at the girl as he conjured the stuffed horse closer, making her clap her hands. "Is this what you want?" He laughed as she took a vice-like grip to his wrist, curling an arm around the horse that took the better half of her body mass.

"Do you think she'll want our other toys, mother?" Thor asked, positively bouncing in his spot. Frigga laughed once again, and nodded. "Collect as many as you can. We will need at least a few dolls made, we don't want our princess to be raised as a prince." She said more to herself than he children. "Yes mother!" Thor cheered, almost running out of the room.

Loki still stood next to his mother, the sleeve of his shirt still held captive to the tiny hand. "She is so fragile, mother." He whispered, tilting his head into the crook of Frigga's neck. Her hand came up to stroke his head, her fingers running through his hair with a love only a mother could muster. "I know, my love. She will always be more fragile, always a bit more weak than us. You must tell your brother this, she is not to be tossed around like the doll she looks to be."

Loki blinked in understanding, sighing when he heard Thor's calls of assistance. Frigga chuckled, hugging her son to her. "Go to him, my son. It's best not to delay your brother."

"I would mother. If she would let me go." He smiled, looking down and into the wide, doe-like eyes of his sister. She smiled as she chewed on the horse's nose. Frigga's heart warmed at this small instance of acceptance between the two.

The Queen's finger fell victim to the child's grip as Loki exited the nursery. Something dawned on him, making him turn back and peak his head in. He was going to ask the child's name, if it weren't for his mother cradling the girl to her chest, quietly sobbing.

He shied away, quietly closing the door as he wondered why his mother was so sad.


	2. One: Weak

**Oh my goodness! So many fantabulous reviews, favorites, and follows! Thank you all so much, please do enjoy this chapter - it's for youse guise. c: (Holy crap, this is the longest thing I've ever written! o: ) Also! The Princess is like 15, and since she ages a bit faster than the average Asgardian, Loki is like 21, and Thor is like 23.**

* * *

Auror tapped her fingers against her desk, watching as her teacher handed back their tests. She'd studied hard for this one, even Hogun said she was more than prepared to demolish it. Well, he hadn't _said_ she was ready; it was more of an encouraging nod of approval.

Her fingers stopped and her breathing hitched as her teacher, Lady Urahn, made it to her desk. Lady Urahn's delicate finger tips placed her scroll down, not looking at the princess as she did so. "Is it really that bad?!" Auror wondered aloud as she snatched it from it's spot, her teacher shaking her head negatively as she wandered to the next student.

Auror was hesitant, but ready for failure. It was a common thing, she _wasn't_ of this world, and she would never accomplish anything as to Asgardian standards, even philosophy. She closed her eyes as she uncurled the paper, popping them open once she knew her status would be revealed. Gasping, her petite, thin fingers almost tore the paper her grip became so tight.

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Princess Auror was a strange girl, to say the loveliest least. She was kind and compassionate, yet quiet. She never spoke unless spoken to in her lessons, purely out of shyness. She was quite the opposite in every other aspect of her life.

She often wore one of her brother's tunics, paired with leggings and (usually) bare feet. Of course, times like now, she wore delicate slippers on her feet, similar to the servant's shoes. They were much more comfortable compared to what other teen-aged Asgardians wore to impress one another.

Her extravagantly unmanageable red curls where usually free-flowing down her back, reaching her waist. She was often gossiped about being the 'Princess of the Wood', because of her rugged and wood-elfish appearance. Surely if she had pointy ears, she would be the perfect wood-elf specimen.

The other teen-agers...weren't so accepting as her maturer subjects. Particularly the wealthiest, most spoiled ones. They would taunt her, call her names. They'd yet to touch her, but she always feared it would come to that.

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Once the day ended, and beautiful school-house bell rang. It was one of Auror's favorite sounds.

As usual, she sat on the golden steps of the building, waiting for her elder brother. He would always walk her to and from her lessons, making her laugh and sometimes act as a shoulder to cry on. Today was not a crying day; in fact it was the exact opposite!

Auror smiled to herself as she remembered the 'Perfect!' written on her evaluation.

"What have we got here?" An all too familiar voice cooed from behind her, making Auror's small mouth even out into a calm line. A cold sweat came over her, and she tried to block them out like Loki said to.

"Princess? Pretty, pretty, Princess? I don't see one of those anywhere, all I see is an ugly little swine!" The kick had been unexpected, her shoulder surely developing a bruise before she tumbled onto the stone street in front of her.

She quickly turned around to face the boys, who had their grubby paws all over her school satchel. "Hey! Give that back!" Her voice was _supposed_ to sound authoritative, but even she heard her whimpering. She stool, her shortness coming into her own realization as she straightened herself to full height, only reaching the shorter one's collar bone. Gods, she was tired of this.

"What are you going to do, little thing? Step on my toe?" The ring-leader questioned, his tone becoming suggestive as he stepped closer to her. "You are a little thing, aren't you?" His breath touched her face, his hands coming to roughly grip her forearms as she tried to back away.

"Get away from me, you pig!" Her knee met his groin, her fist coming into contact with his nose in a rather unkindly manner. Her screams continued to alert the surrounding kingdom, though no-one lived near the school-house. She thought about fixing this problem with maybe some guards before he recovered.

He took no time at all to recover, his advances rougher than before. His palm was about to meet her cheek when he suddenly arched in pain, his vocal chords muted from another spell. His posse watched as this boy fell victim to Prince Loki's wrath, Loki himself seeming to come from the shadows themselves.

"Sister, to me." His tone was sweet, as if he _wasn't_ casting a dreadful illusion over the boy. She held her head low as she quickly walked towards her elder brother.

Loki held the spell over the boy as his eyes wandered to his gang, a few noble's offspring, likely to go unpunished. Loki turned all the way towards his sister, holding his hand out for her to take. She did, but still refused to make eye-contact. With a flit of his wrist, the all of the boys clothing disappeared, save their underthings. Her satchel was now in his other hand.

Their shrill screams of embarrassment were small victories of their own, but the tear spilling down her cheek deserved a far worse punishment.

\\\\\

They'd told no-one of the scuffle, but they would surely hear about it again in the days to come. Gossip traveled fast around the humongous kingdom.

Auror had yet to speak to him about it. Their walk back to the palace was a quiet one, only her occasional sniffle would break the silence between them. Their hands held together the whole way, so Loki knew she wasn't upset with him, thank the gods. He wouldn't be able to bare it.

Her silence throughout the night is what beckoned him to her chamber door, her voice calling him to her before his knuckled knocked. She'd left dinner early, casually slipping away after telling Frigga goodnight. Frigga, dear Frigga, had asked Loki to check on her, while he had been heading towards her room in the first place.

Auror laid on her bed, partially covered by her covers. Her room was almost the exact opposite of Loki's, except for the color. They'd always shared a liking of green.

Her walls were made of the stronger, most impenetrable glass in all of the nine realms, it's texture throwing occasional rainbows throughout her chambers. Now, the stars shown through.

Her bed was lofted, finding home near the top of her dome-shaped bedroom, just so she could look at the stars. When she was smaller, she would wander away and all the way to Heimdall just so she could stargaze with him. Her lofted bed was the solution to her wandering, and Frigga's almost daily near heart-attack.

The floor to her chamber was a pale-peach stone work, each stone being brought from the place where she was found, so she may never be far from her home. Her door was a gold-plaited wood, too heavy for her to move on her own. She had a guard stationed outside of her door for the purpose of being her door-opener; Aol.

Her furniture was of white wood, golden accents thrown in wherever they could look most beautiful. Her carpets were a pale forest green, matching the thick comforter she'd taken from Loki's bed when she was a toddler.

Loki admired her room for what seemed (and could have very well been) the billionth time. Her tastes were so different from his, but they shared a favorite color. He smiled as he climbed the golden spiral staircase to her, her back first coming into view. She faced away from him, her eyes to the stars as he took his boots off, as well as his jacket, throwing them onto the floor below. She softly laughed at that, but he knew it was not genuine.

"Auror," His whisper was suddenly against the back of her exposed neck, his cool arms suddenly engulfing her small frame.

"Those _boys_ have no inkling of a thought to how extraordinary you are. You are beau-" "It's not that, Loki." Her voice sliced through the air like her ever faithful whip that wrapped itself around her bedpost, ready to defend her at any given time.

Loki's green eyes widened slightly as his sister sat up, his arms falling from her as she did so. She looked anywhere but him, her gaze still tilted towards the sky. "I'm tired of being weak. I don't want you to save me every time I fall down, every time I get my knee scraped. I want to be like mother, defending herself without doubt, without..._fear_."

Sitting up, Loki took her chin in his hand, forcing her gaze to match his.

"You are not weak, Auror. You are a strong daughter of Odin, capable of anything in all of the universes." He became closer as he spoke, resting his forehead against hers as his voice resulted in a whisper. "You are beautiful, strong, intelligent." He cooed, his hand stroking her cheek as his words became a funnel for his thoughts. "I come to your rescue so often because you are prone to danger, Auror." She laughed, this time truthfully. "I come to your rescue...because I love you, I always will, therefore I will always be your rescuer."

His eyes were as deep as his words, the green pits making her fall even further. "I love you, Loki." _More than I should_. "I am forever condemned to be your damsel in distress, my Prince?" She asked, smirking as she laid back down. He stared at her for a moment, watching her watching him.

"You _are_ my Princess." He grumbled, turning onto his stomach. He gripped her around the waist like one might a doll, but that was how they'd slept for eons.

Auror smiled, a thought coming to her. "You are correct on mine being intelligent. I got a 'Perfect' on my evaluation, the one we studied so hard for." She smiled, watching his eyebrows raise in satisfaction at the news, his eyes remaining closed. "I never expected any less, you _are_ smarter than all of those dunces." He spoke pleasantly, as if discussing the weather. The Princess smiled, kissing her Prince on the cheek before burrowing into the covers, her conscience once more clean. With a flit of his wrist, Loki drew the giant curtain that encircled Auror's globe, encasing them in a comforting darkness.


	3. Two: Rage, Part ONE

**Bercelak**- You're one of the nicest people I've ever gotten a review from! You're a very sweet chicka, chicka, and I look forward to hearing more from you! :* :D

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**segagenny**- I'm so glad you approve. *wipes sweat from frooohead* I was afraid people would think she was too Mary-Suey! Hopefully this chapter will change any minds if they do. ;)

**Dede-Green**- Ssssshhh! Don't spoil the surprise, you future-telly-person, you! ;]

**Taylor**- Fixed it bebe, and thank you so much best frieeeeend o3o

**angel897**- I try to make it as engaging as possible! :D Do tell me if it ever gets boring, plllllease!

** : / fc06. deviant art fs8/ i/ 2005/ 315/ 4/ 6/ Dress _ by _ noke 89 .jpg - Auror's dress for this chapter! ( add an ** **to the beginning, and without the spaces, o'course) **

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Auror whined in defiance at the brush trying to force it's way through her hair.

"I don't know why you try, Mother. It's hopeless!" Throwing her thin arms up in frustration, the Princess looked u np to her mother in the mirror of her vanity. She was smiling, though her brow was lowered in concentration. "It's not helpless, my love. It simply has a mind of it's own."

Tonight was not going to be fun at all. Auror wasn't exactly one for parties, especially when they were honoring her beloved eldest brother. She loved Thor, she really did. But his drunken rants about how little she was were _quite_ annoying.

"An evil mind," Auror grumbled, before looking up to her mother, whom was putting down the cursed brush. "No more? No intricate weaving?" She asked, turning back to herself in the mirror. Her hair was frizzy and poofy, not a good combination when it was thick. She had too much hair, she decided. One day she would cut it all off, maybe.

"No. If you'd like I could rangle it into a braid?" Auror automatically shook her head 'no', making the Queen laugh. "Alright, my dear. You'll have to somehow fit your circle on, you know. Your father insists." Frigga chastised lightly, running her fingers through the tangled mess affectionately. "Your robes are hanging in your powder room." She said, getting up from her seat behind her daughter. "I'll see you in less than half an hour, correct?" She raised her eyebrows to her daughter.

"Yes, mother. Of course." And Frigga left, smiling.

Auror knew she was making false promises. It took her so long to get ready. She didn't know why. Lady Sif had always complained how side-taked she'd get. Kind of how Thor-

Focus! She thought t herself. "Tonight is a moderately big night for Thor, ought not to be late." She whispered to herself, shaking her frizzy red head as she walked over to her bathroom doors. On the back of the slight door, hung her dress.

It was beautiful, long, and elegant. Maybe this was her wright into womanhood, she'd never had a wardrobe so intricate for one of Thor's celebrations. Whenever she finally got in on, through her sash in the creases of her elbows, she wrapped it around herself before stepping in front of the mirror.

It was off of her shoulders, no cleavage, considering how low it _did_ go. Auror sighed at this, having a nearly flat chest. It her opinion, she looked quite like a little boy. Not it this dress, though.

It hugged whatever curve she had on her young body, the fabric wrapping around her torso in layers. The layers stopped in a sort of bodice, creme colored fabric seeming to spil from it and down to the floor. Whenever it did touch the floor, it turned into a layer of celtic-inspired lace, very smooth except for a beautiful design stretching from the end of the train to the back of her knees. The dress itself reminded her of autumn, the warm peachy-whites and the soft, pale grays. The sleeves were long, and elegant, touching the floor at well. Her hair fell to the middle of her back, spilling over and behind her shoulders.

She slipped on her slippers, and exited her bedroom in a bit of a rush - with the help of Aol, of course. She feared she had reached her thirty minute limit, and that made her pick up the airy fabric of the gown and pull it up to her knees, giving her feet room to make a run towards the Grand Hall. She was about to touch the grand door with her finger tip when a force suddenly yanked and pulled her backwards, green light swirling around her waist.

"Loki, I don't want to be late!" She whined, trying to pry the glowing green force away from her, but failing as her palms just fought against air.

"That won't matter without your tiara, little sister." She could _hear_ his smirk as she bumped into him finally. Whipping around, she let her skirt go free. She looked up to her elder brother, relief sweeping over her as her circle came into view. It was a simple thing, golden bands woven together much like vines would be, a bright moonstone gracing the very middle.

"You know I love you, so do not make me say it." She laughed as he positioned it correctly, so her hair hid the band, and the white stone was shown proudly on the base of her forehead. She lifted onto the tip of her tippy-toes, kissing his cheek as he smiled down to her. "I do love hearing you say that. Come now," He suddenly wrapped his arms around her, caging her in in a fit of giggles. "Tell your brother you love him."

"I can't; Thor isn't here right now!" She deflated enthusiastically, turning to jelly in his arms as she sobbed dramatically. "Oh, hush you. Don't make this night about that dunce anymore then it already is." He softly laughed, putting her hair behind both of her round ears with one hand. "You look lovely, by the way. Your age, at last."

"You can thank mother for this one." She smiled knowingly. Ever since she was small, Frigga made her clothing. This dress might've taken no time at all, but it looked as if an artist made this piece of cloth - slowly and delicately.

"I shall, now." They latched their elbows as he released her, his cold touch nothing to her just as cold feel.

Entering through the golden doors, their audience stood (if not already standing) at the arrival of their prince and princess. The crowd cheered, though more for Auror than Loki.

Frigga stood as well, walking over to meet her children. "My dear," She cooed, taking Auror's arm from Loki.

Auror spoke a small 'Love you.' to Loki, making him smile as he walked toward his lone corner where he and she would usually make fun of their nobles. He watched as his mother took his sister towards the balcony, where a figure stood with his back to the festivities. A strange jealousy suddenly took him over, the candles that where near him growing brighter as his silent rage grew.

"Do not waste the night away playing tricks with Loki, my love. I have someone very important for you to meet." Auror's stomach dropped. No wonder she was wearing such a dress.

Her step slowed as she and her mother approached the tall , oddly familiar figure, her eyes sweeping over him in a suspicious manner. He had a slim frame, his shoulders broad. He had dark brown, almost black, curly hair that was neatly trimmed. His ears where painfully obvious, giving his race away as an elf. There was no possible way he was her age, he held himself with the air of a grown man.

"Prince Ralnor," He turned only his head, his bright hazel eyes _glowing_ in the dim light.

"My Queen," He bowed his head for a moment, turning fully when he saw his promised. "My Princess." He smiled, taking her hand in his. He bowed his head again (she guessed it was an elvish thing), and lifted her hand to his cheek. He kissed her wrist, holding onto her hand as Auror turned back to her mother with flaming cheeks.

"Make sure she has her share of fun this night, Ralnor." The Queen smiled wistfully to her daughter, turning back to the party. Why did her mother look suddenly a bit sorry?

Ralnor gestured Auror forward with a smile, both of them reaching the balcony's railing. "Forgive me, Princess. I hadn't expected to meet you in a such a...loud occasion." He lightly laughed as Thor had to be ushered off of the top of the table by Siff. Really, brother, when it was this early?

"You're in no trouble, m'lord." She smiled reassuringly, though she was longing to be next to Loki. "For what do I owe this pleasure?" She shyly asked, turning a bit pink at how oblivious she sounded. Surely mother had said something before!

He sighed, though not annoyed. In fact, he looked entirely pleasant. He smiled down to her (he was an elf, so he was taller than even Thor), taking her much smaller hands in his.

"Auror, do you remember meeting me for the first time all those years ago? I was as I am now, though my hair wasn't sheered." Her mind suddenly clicked, and that day flooded back to her.

"Yes, I do remember you." She confirmed with a nod of her head. "It was when this was given to me..." Her fingers drifted up to her forehead, brushing the stone.

He eyed it, his finger falling between the two of hers. "Do you know who crafted your crown?"

"An elven blacksmith, that is all I know." She cooed, shaking her head with wide eyes. "Are you aware of the rules to an Elven engagement, Auror?"

She smiled, nodding her head. "An elven male crafts his mate a special piece of jewel, one of his own design. This promises him to her, keeping her happy and healthy or whatever the male would want his mate to be." She loved the elven culture, ever since she was small.

"You are as knowledgeable as you are beautiful, my lady." He kissed her wrist again.

"When you were so small, I first caught sight of you when you would run off to the rainbow bridge. Even as a child, you were beautiful. I made you this circle because you are my promised, my Princess." He almost whispered, brushing her wild hair out of the way of his stone. He'd saved himself for her over last few centuries, waiting for her to grow into the young woman she was now.

"We are...engaged." She stated slowly, her eyes as wide as they were before. "Yes, my lady. We have been for almost your whole life." He smiled, unaware of the livid, disgusted anger she held in herself.

She knew why she should be mad. Her parents promised her to someone without telling her, and worse, ever since she was a mere child. She was still a child, she was not ready for marriage! Her rage was honed in on one, very unethical former hope. For whatever reason, whenever she envisioned herself marrying someone...it was always Loki in her fantasy.

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**The Rage, Part Uno**


	4. Three: Rage, Part TWO

Keep the comments and questions trucking! I lurv it!

**segagenny**- Here you go, gorgeous! Oh, and the douche will do more than dance, but that's just Loki for ya! ;)

**reindeergames19**- Thank you, thank you, thank you! He does get quite p-oed. More off his view on this situation in the next chapter! c:

**prankster-at-heart**- This is the first fic I've ever really gotten into, so I feel the same as you do! XD

**Deception is Decepticon**- I like your profile pic. 030 Anywho! It's sure to get even more interesting, but I'm thinking of more and more stuff as I go - hopefully just as good. :]

**Taylor**- We'll be seeing more of the elf in this chapter, bebe. :}

**AdaG**- Thank you so much! :,D

**NoVacancyMind**- We'll see ;) DUN DUN DUUUN

Now, onto the jealousy!

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It was wasn't her fault, she swore it.

It's just that the circle that she'd come to know and love suddenly burned her skin, _making_ her taking it off...and_ making_ her throw it off of the balcony.

Tears in her eyes, she then said a soft apology to the deflating elven prince before retreating back into the party.

She yelled at her parents, saying more than she knew she should have.

_"You aren't my real parents, you_ **cannot**_ govern _**my**_ life!" _

Oh, how terrible she felt.

She'd run to one of her favorite places - a small garden where she and Loki often came to read. Tears dripped onto the blades of grass that she sat on, probably ruining her first real ball gown, but she honestly didn't give a care in the world to it. Not now.

Now, ripping out grass and throwing it like confetti-of-frustration into the air, she thought of how angry Loki seemed. Thor was off with some poor girl, so he of course in his drunken stupor didn't notice her almost run from the grand hall, through the opened golden archways and into the night.

She was so tired. So very tired. She was tired of her parents trying to mold her into something she was not. She'd realized herself that she truly, truly didn't belong here - she'd never be the perfect princess, let alone a Queen half as decent as Frigga.

She was tired of her subjects loving (and hating) her for her strangeness. She wanted to be normal, she tried, she tried so hard...but it just was not something she could accomplish.

"Then why not rest, my Princess?" An unexpected voice came from behind her, making her jump. Had...had she said that out loud?

"No," Ralnor softly laughed, his tall figure coming into view from behind the tree she and Loki used to hang from as children. "Your parent's decision really must have shocked you, I understand." She was about to think something very rude to say, but instead she just of saying it.

"Do you, really? Are you adopted? Are you shown around like a bird in a cage to be prodded and petted?" Her words were fierce, her tears finally stopping. She never cried, she usually refused to.

"No, I am most definitely not." He spoke with a smile, coming over to her and sitting in the grass beside her. He stretched out, laying down onto his back so he could look up to her in the light of the stars.

"But I come from a family that expects a certain amount, and if I do not provide it..." She watched him as he shook his head in a sad longing. "My King and Queen are very demanding, to say the least. Or, they used to be. I haven't seen them directly in about three centuries...not that I'm complaining."

"_What_?!" The princess was completely flabbergasted, sitting up straighter in shock.

He merely shrugged, looking up to the stars. "They've never been affectionate. Even to my sisters. We know they only had children to produce heirs. They stopped when they finally birthed a male."

"You...you have sisters?" Auror asked, her eyes widening in wonder as she sank down to his level, her hair serving as a cushion for her head. Ralnor laughed, nodding his head proudly.

"Ava, Ester, and Imara. They are all my elder sisters, I am the youngest - something we have in common." He stared at her, and she stared at him. "Tell me more."

Softly laughing, he nodded. "I am of the realm Alfheim, son to King Galleagan and Queen Kilisee. Our race is immortal. My parents were tiring from their eternity on their thrones, so they've decided I needed to have a wife." She could hear the irritation in his voice, but he smiled anyway. "Whenever I first _met_ you, you were so small, coming to my waist even." She didn't doubt it. Even now, she just made it barely to his pectorals. "You where barefooted, climbing a tree with your brother, Loki." Mentioning Loki suddenly made Auror feel...guilty. She tried her best to ignore the feeling so Ralnor wouldn't ask what was wrong. "You lost your grip on the branch you held, and landed directly into my arms. You then looked up to me, stared at my ears for a moment, then shouted, 'Again!'"

They both laughed at the shared memory, both of them blushing only the slightest. "That sounds like me."

"I would not have you any other way, my Princess." She smiled, letting her fingers brush over his. Maybe this could work.

"Tell me of your sisters." She asked shyly. Ralnor looked back to the stars, smiling brightly. "You would not believe me if I told you how old they where." "Yes I would."

He laughed at her oh-so-immediate response. "Ava is 19,698, Ester 19,598, and Imara 19,498. I am 18,698 years young." She laughed rather loudly at that. "You're an old man!" "Not true. I am an old elf. Ava is wiser than even my father. She has the gift of foresight; she was the one who nudged me on coming here so many years ago. Ester is very creative, she has a very wide imagination. You'll find her paintings coating the walls of our bed-chamber's hallway in our home. Imara...sweet, sweet Imara. She is sadly very sickly, ever since we were children. Her legs do not work, therefore giving her motivation to become a healer. She is quietest of all of my sisters."

They spoke of his home for what seemed like hours, him being already familiar with Asgard providing them a silence of the topic. They spoke of their wants, of their dreams. Only when he took her circle out of his elegant elven vest, did she even remember it's existence.

"I _am_ sorry about that." She shyly said, hiding her face from his for a moment. To her surprise, he began laughing. "I knew your reaction was to be unpredictable, now I know why the Queen warned me." He sat up, causing her to do the same.

He suddenly got fairly pink, his alabaster skin almost glowing as much as his eyes did. "If-If you'll have me, Auror. I would very much enjoy courting you." He asked, holding out her beloved circle. She stared down to it. It seemed like a doll's hair-piece in his large hands. She smiled, but rolled his fingers back around the crown and pushed it against his chest.

"I will be your maiden. Not your mate, not yet." Her smile was soft, but playful. Her eyes were wide as he stared down to her. His skin looked like a perfect marble in the light of the moon, making his lips even more interesting. She had a thought, and he bent down to her height. She laughed, kissed his cheek, and her fingers found his jaw. "I am far from ready."

"I would wait my eternity, Princess."

* * *

Loki had never found himself to be in such a rage before. For one second, he thought he had the slimmest chance. That elf took her away from him, without even trying.

He watched as _his_ Princess kissed the elf's cheek, how the elf took her wrist and kissed the fragile thing. Loki found himself seeing red, causing him to turn away quickly and even _walk_ angrily back to the festivities. He found a platoon of women circling his brother, each feeding him something. Sif stood off to the side, watching in a similar jealousy. Loki suddenly remembered the obsession he'd had for her before his _little sister_ even appeared. He remembered cutting all of her golden hair off in a fit of jealousy, the dark, drab brown growing in it's place.

He shook his head, a burst of color suddenly catching his eye. It was Ori, a noble man's daughter who did anything for attention. She was dressed in a very obnoxious pink, a color he immediately loathed. The one thing that drew him to her was her long, red hair.

Loki smirked deviously as he walked sulked towards her, an image of his Princess's face covering the whore's.

* * *

**Aw. Snap. **

**OhandIinvisionRalnorasBenedictCumberbatch. Ehehe.**

**Btw, he's not really an old elf, he was just humoring her. By his elven standards, he's still kinda young. **


	5. Four: Jealousy's Ugly, Loki

**I'm sososososososososososososooooooo sorry for the terribly long wait! This is a shorter chapter, it kinda gets straight to the point! **

* * *

He swore it wasn't his fault. He knew it wasn't.

The glorified whore hadn't stopped making noises, _would not shut up_.

He couldn't help how his hands wrapped around her throat, he'd only squeezed so much.

The only evidence of his crime left were the scratch marks on his back and arms, but he'd healed them long ago.

He'd told her that he was taking her far away, so they could live happily ever after. Luckily she'd already written a note to her family, telling them how ungrateful she was and how her 'lover' was going to give her a better life.

Loki found himself grinning as he sat next the very girl who'd made him do it.

Breakfast was rather quiet that morning, but it was a comfortable silence. According to Thor, Auror had apologized for her harsh words last night. Frigga being Frigga, she apologized herself. Odin had been surprisingly hurt by her words, and the all-mighty-Allfather crumbled under his daughter's apologizing gaze. It had been the first time the young Princess had ever gone against, or even said a word contradicting her parent's wishes.

"So, little sister," Thor suddenly wondered, nudging her as she sat between him and Loki. "Did the elf kiss you last night?" He boomed with laughter when she sank in her seat, her alabaster cheeks almost glowing she became so red.

**_What._**

"It was a small kiss, a promise of return of sorts." She shyly told him, her hands coming to cover her tear-filled eyes. Whenever she was embarrassed, or whenever she blushed, her eyes always watered. There was no possible way in all of the Nine Realms that _elf_ would know that about her.

"Your first kiss? Oh, you're growing up. You all are!" Frigga exclaimed with a sigh, bringing her napkin to the corners of her eyes. "We will never truly grow up, mother. We will always be your children." Thor chimed in, earning a nod from Loki. "Good words, brother."

"Oh, my darlings. So sweet to us." Frigga sniffled, laying her hand on her husband's.

Loki watched as his sister inhaled her food, eating faster than even a drunk Thor. He stared as she quickly got from her seat as soon as she finished, running toward the large door to the outside world. "Sweetheart?" Frigga questioned.

"Where are you off to in such a hurry?" It was Odin to ask. "Ralnor has a surprise for me on the bridge! He said it was very special!" Her voice was strained from the effort she put into opening the door, her thin arms working with all of their might to hoist the heavy door open. Thor laughed, wishing her a happy day with her _lover_. Loki could could _feel_ her blush as she ran from the hall - after she blew them a kiss.

The princess ran as fast as she could, her little feet taking her over small archways and through thin alleys. Her agility matched her danger with her whip, from years of hiding and jumping and playing with her much older brothers.

She smiled to those who smiled, glared to those who glared. She even stepped on a few people's heads, using them as a walk-way to the next arch. Her city was filled with them. Her city had always been her giant jungle-gym.

Today she wore one of Thor's tunics. It reached her knees, even when secured my her belt. Her brown leggings were the ones she always wore. They were so worn that Frigga constantly had to sew the crotch back together, _but that was their little secret. _

Her hair was wild, bouncing with every move she made. It was held from her face in a small plait, but the rest was wild and free. She loved her hair free, free for the wind to tangle and run it's fingers through as she ran.

Finally reaching the bridge, she emerged from the ledge she perched upon. Jumping from it, it landed lightly on her feet a little ways away from her prince. Wait, _her_ prince?

She made sure her hair was in it's usual mess, taking a deep breath as she began toward him. When he turned, she felt her cheeks heat with glee.

It hurt him to know she did not notice him. He'd ran behind her, keeping her on her feet whenever she unknowingly was about to tumble.

Loki watched her run away from him, because that's what she was going. Practically running out of his life.

"I've only just arrived," the Elf smiled, smiling gently down to the princess. "You are rather quick, little one."

She laughed, her cheeks growing hot and red. "I'm happy that you're here, of course! I hate trveling by the Bifrost; I couldn't fathom four times in such a short period of time."

She hesitantly looked down the far-reaching bridge, blushing again when she saw Heimdal knowingly tilted his head to her. "N-nothing against our lovely gatekeeper, I-I assure you."

When she heard Heimdal boom with laughter, she sent a glare to the heavens.

~o~

Asgardians openly stared as they always did, more than ever now that their strange princess had an even stranger companion. Some smiled, some glared. Some backed away in fear of the Elf's tall frame.

She showed him all of her beloved kingdom, though she was sure he'd seen it many times before. She appreciated his false enthusiasm. He would smile knowingly whenever she had these thoughts, but still kept quiet.

On one of their many stops, Auror couldn't help but feel as if she was being watched. She was on the opposite side of the shop then Ralnor, and she could barely see him through the many dangling objects that adorned the shop's bannisters.

She found herself alone, surrounded by odd objects and look-alikes from different realms. She'd grown to love this shop. Loki didn't find it difficult at all to find her again when he'd gotten tired of watching their dovey love affair.

He circled her, knowing she could sense him. He'd deemed himself invisible, watching her as her eyes caught wherever his shoulder caught a chime, tugged on a curtain. He soon had her in a corner, towering over her. He was so close her could feel her breath on his chest.

He breathed in whatever breath he let out, absorbing her scent as he'd done so many times before. He found himself leaning towards her, his arms caging her against the wall. He didn't notice the way her eyes widen in realization, how her fingernails dug into the wall.

"Auror?"

Of course he had to stand aside as she answered the Elf's call.

He'd found himself furious as she embraced him, looking back to where he'd corned her like a spooked doe. This was when Loki realized why he was so jealous, so angry, so _very_ possessive.

He loved his _sister,_ more than he ever should, and there wasn't a thing he could do about it.

* * *

**Loki's been creepin', and Auror may or may not know what he was dooooiiiing. I promise the next chapter will be a crap ton better, family problems are drowning me at the moment. ;-; **


End file.
